Drink of the Faithless and Halved
by Novocain
Summary: Here in this moment: fingers absently tracing an ANBU mask, a single eye staring blankly at the Memorial Stone, and "How many great loves do you get?" as the question of this decade later.


_**Drink of the Faithless and Halved**_

_**. ... .  
**_

As he creeps to the open crack of the sliding door and the voices sounding from the other side, Kakashi is as quiet as he can be. This is very quiet indeed, more quiet than Tono-sensei was when demonstrating stealth in class last week. His eyes are slightly blurred with sleep, his mouth thick with the taste of it, but he makes no more sound than a shadow as he lines one eye up with the crack.

" - You only get three great loves in your life, Sakumo," a low voice is husking. The words are slightly slurred but more - with a quality of a metal rake scraping against the street, as though it has been overused and overspent. (This has been a long night, full of alcohol and tobacco and rants and, towards the end, tears. It will not be spoken of after the dawn, will almost have never existed.)

"Jiraiya - " his father's voice murmurs quietly.

"Three great loves," the man repeats determinedly, sounding more forceful now but still just as scraping, raking. "It's a rule. And goddammit, but why did all of mine come so soon?"

The scraping-raking voice breaks on the last, a choking stutter of air that is just barely audible in the distance between the two men and Kakashi.

"...Because you were blessed."

A snorting sound, full of ugly emotions that Kakashi does not recognize and does not want to. It makes him hunch into himself slightly in reflex.

"Really, Sakumo? Really? That's what you say? What utter bullshit."

Kakashi's sharp ears pick up on a light _clack_. (It is a sake saucer hitting the table, his father's pathetic response. They have drunk so much by this point that they have almost come out on the other end of the spectrum as sober.)

And silence.

Kakashi is half-dozing by the time his father replies, his words spartan and curiously gentle in a way that his son has never heard it. "Blessed. So much love concentrated at once."

There is a loud crack, and Kakashi is very awake. (It is the sound of Jiraiya's despair in the form of a snapped-off table edge.)

"Blessed?" It is spoken in a clean hiss, followed by a smatter of words too low for Kakashi to hear. " - means that after this, after them, there will be nothing and no one! I can feel everything falling apart already, and I'm not ready, I'm not - "

"...Has Orochimaru - "

_"Don't._"

Silence. There is a desperate tension in the house, in the very grain of the wood and fibers of the paper doors.

Finally, dully: "And, y'know, it's not like I was ever one of anyone else's great loves. That's the really beautiful thing about it. All of my chances overwhelmingly quick-blooming and blind, and I never even had a shot at being wanted in return. It's like I'm the kage of cosmic jokes - Village Hidden in Failure. Population, one." Kakashi is half-expecting to hear a bitterbitterbitter laugh now, but instead there is an empty silence that is far worse somehow.

"...At least you still have your loves by your side."

Kakashi sees the line of Jiraiya's back flinch. (Sakumo sees his tattooed face spasm in a quick rictus of shock and regret and anger.) "_Sakumo_. No, no no no. That isn't _fair_, you sonuvabitch, you _chose -_ "

"And where is she now?"

"...You. You're - stop. If you had stayed - but you didn't, and that's why everything's falling apart. We missed a step, made a wrong choice. Do you remember being seventeen, the four of us?"

"...I remember."

"Immortality tastes like the sun."

"...You're drunk and reaching maudlin, Jiraiya."

"I reached that point long ago. You did too - you're actually emoting, jackass."

"We'll feel this in the morning, Jirai- "

"Stop saying my name. _Fuck_. This shit's too much, I'm heading home - "

" - Jiraiya - "

A slam - of a body being pinned to the tatami out of Kakashi's view. There is a fierce mutter that he cannot decipher, and then a guttural, furious snarl: " - not fucking allowed to pull this shit. You told me - and you chose her, and I believed you because you believed she was worth it. Was she worth it, Sakumo? Was she worth Tsunade, Orochimaru, me? When you weigh this future, was it worth it? Was she your _great love_?"

There is a scrabbling noise, a sudden muffled groan, spastic breathing. Kakashi tenses but stays where he is, sure in the knowledge of his father's ability to win any battle.

He hears weird sounds. (Strong thighs locking between strong thighs, rough hands threading too-tightly in hair and calluses skating underneath cloth to grasp at the trench of a back - mouths fierce and biting and airless, timeless, there is no time, just the delicious friction as hips strain for hips and it is so _good_, so artless and _beautiful -_ )

Then comes a clatter, an almost soundless _oomph_, and Jiraiya is striding through the hallway, past Kakashi's door to the genkan, stiffness ensnarling every line that forms him. Kakashi scrambles silently away from the crack as Sakumo follows, stumbling and half-clutching at his solar plexus.

"Jiraiya, no - " his father wheezes out.

There are sounds of Jiraiya switching his house slippers for geta. His voice is blank, tight, raking and scraping, and his words trip out after each other too quickly as he replies, "I could say I hate you but I don't, even though we should be four and it's your fault we aren't, something I don't have a problem with saying and I'll say again. It's your fault, Sakumo. I don't hate you, I love you, so don't ask this of me - "

"_Why_ - "

It is a roar. "You CHOSE, Sakumo, and what you chose wasn't me, _don't ask this faith of me._" _It is gone already_ doesn't need to be said.

And Jiraiya is gone too, Sakumo bloodless in his wake.

. ... .

Hatake Kakashi has never heard his father speak of love before, and he never will again. Guided by his sharper instincts, he doesn't ask the man himself about it (it will not be spoken of after the dawn, will almost have never existed) but instead questions Tono-sensei during lunchbreak. His teacher's explanation is elaborate, descriptions of peace and happiness and completeness with another person.

When he frowns, all five years old and small and dark-eyed and silk-skinned, and asks how such a concept could not inherently contradict the shinobi handbook in a hundred ways -

Tono-sensei gapes a little, stares - tries to find the right words but too late, too late, and Kakashi has walked away in dissatisfaction already.

He puts the incident from his mind and graduates from the academy three months later.

. ... .

A scratchy, little-used voice breaks a long silence. "...Jiraiya-sama?"

"...Yeah, brat?"

Here in this moment - fingers absently tracing an ANBU mask, a single eye staring blankly at the Memorial Stone, and: "How many great loves do you get?" as the question of this decade later.

* * *

**A/N:** My reply to the prompt of "three" on the Yonkaka comm, this totally was not what I expected to result. I managed to completely write this while running on sleep deprivation. I am now posting this and hoping that it's not too extremely vague. I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts on the dynamics they are referring to. *prays it makes sense*


End file.
